Requiem for Someone New
by MelaninMonroe
Summary: Worick x Reader: You were always so guarded, there was simply no one who understood. You took care of your girls, and you were good at what you did. But who would be there when you began to fall apart?
1. Chapter 1

You were so tired. You seemed to always be tired these days but right now you were exhausted. Loretta had you working day and night, but you couldn't complain. You were happy to do it. You were happy to oblige the Cristiano family and Bastard. And the small cash rewards they paid helped keep food in your mouth and a roof over your head.

Tonight had been a rather quiet one. There were a few small disturbances here and there, but otherwise uneventful. Loretta kept you around even when there wasn't much going on, and for that you were grateful. Not only did you find solace in being able to watch over the girls even on a slow night, the work reminded you that you were indeed, needed.

"(f/n), Come quick! It's Ariel. Her client ain't treating her right. He's trying to leave without payment." One of the girls said to you, out of breath. You merely nodded in agreement and followed her.

On the inside, Bastard was a lot bigger than it looked. The upstairs was almost a labyrinth of small rooms side by side, some separated only by worn shoji screen dividers. The place wasn't necessarily falling apart, but it had seen better days. You knew each Bastard mistress by name, knew which room they occupied. The younger woman who'd came to get you was Sienna, and she had since gone back to her own room, knowing you would handle the cheap miscreant set on a futile diner dash. Before you could round the corner of the corridor of the room Ariel occupied, a small, sharp knife made its way into the room, flying past the customers face and coming into contact with the wall beside him. You entered the room, cool and nonchalant, a mane of long, wavy (h/c) hair flowing behind you. As you leaned against the opposing wall, Ariel ripped herself from the man's clutches, and crawled onto the bed beside you, pulling her knees to her chest. The man looked unfamiliar, whether or not he was from Ergastulum, he certainly wasn't a usual.

"Look, I'm gonna let you off with a warning, since I've never seen you around here before." You said, without meeting the man's eyes. You pulled a small throwing knife from your side, using it to pick at the dirt under your nails.

"You gotta be kiddin' me. This is the Cristiano's pathetic excuse for a bodyguard? No wonder there family ain't doing so well. Listen here bitch, I don't take orders from no one. That whore in the corner doesn't deserve to be paid for her services. It's what she does, she ain't good for nothing else. Why should I pay her for opening her legs? Fuckin' whore." The man spat. You rolled your eyes. Every once in a blue moon Bastard would get some joker who thought a girl was good enough to wrap herself around his cock, but wasn't good enough to be paid for her services when the time came. You hated dogs like these. Good for nothing useless pathetic men who could barely pull themselves up by the bootstraps to face their pathetic lives every day yet had the audacity to judge these women for trying to make a decent living.

"Men like you make me sick. And quite frankly I have better things to do than sit here and entertain your ignorance. Just pay up or I'll take my payment from you how I see fit." You said.

"I told you I ain't paying no Bastard whore." The man retaliated. You sighed heavily, moving to stand in front of the bedroom door. "Outta my way." The man sneered, standing in front of you. His face was mere inches away from your own. You could smell the sour bourbon on his breath. You could see the yellow tinge of his teeth and the scars that littered his face. It was easy to see that this man had pissed off countless others, times before. It was then that you averted your eyes and looked past the vile man, noticing Ariel cradling the side of her head. Blood trickled down her forehead. Your body grew hot with anger.

"Oh you really, really shouldn't have done that." You announced through gritted teeth. Before the man was able to protest, you'd thrown a heavy kick into his chest knocking him back into the wall behind him. The throwing knife you previously had in hand was gone, and made a loud thud against the wall. A light cracking sound immediately followed and the man slid to the floor, screaming.

"You crazy bitch!" He yelled, cradling his injured right hand, now one finger short. His pointer finger was pinned to the wall under your blade, small drops of blood seeping where skin and bone detached. Ariel screamed herself, the action scaring her slightly as she pulled herself farther into the corner of the room.

"That was for the doubt and unnecessary name calling." You said, a slow grin stretching across your face. Your (e/c) eyes were bright with the sensation of adrenaline as you bit your lip and crossed the room to approach the man. You grabbed his right arm, flipping him with ease and pulling the bloodied limb behind his back. He screamed in pain once more. "This," you said, grabbing his thumb and easily running another sharp blade across it, severing another digit from his hand as he screamed into the night. "...is for harming Ariel."

The next finger came and went in an instant as you snipped the man's pinky off, a satisfying crunching sound following.

"Agh, please! No more! I'll pay! I'm sorry!" The man yelled, squirming under your hold. The blood from the hand you held sprayed everywhere.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Hey Ariel, how much does this guy owe you?" You said, looking over at the obviously horrified girl in the bed beside you.

"H-he's b-been here awhile. F-four hours h-he's b-been with me." She stuttered out.

"And that's a hundred an hour amiright?" You replied. The girl merely nodded her head. "You heard her. Four hundred dollars you sick fuck. I'm gonna need more collateral." You sneered, grabbing the man's ring finger and ripping it off with another small knife and the final satisfying sound of the digit tugging from the man's body. "Now I'll leave you with your middle finger, a big fuck you to capitalism eh?" You giggled just a bit. "If you'd like to keep that finger and whatever's left of your pathetic life I'd recommend digging the cash outta your pocket right now and getting the hell outta here." The man did as told, struggling to pull his wounded body from the floor with all of the blood loss. You helped haul him up, slapping him on the back. The man threw the wad of money on the bed, pushed you away from him and staggered out of the door.

"Fucking psycho bitch!" He yelled, clutching his severely injured hand as he ran out of the building.

"You alright?" You asked, your foot pressed firmly against the wall as you attempted to pull the sharp knife from it. Ariel nodded her head again, speechless. "Aw c'mon I got you your money didn't I?" You asked, smiling and trying to make light of the situation.

"You didn't have to be so morbid about it." She said, grabbing the cash from the bed and beginning to count it.

"Well where's the fun in that?" You countered, but Ariel sent you a darting glare. You put your hands up in defeat, backing out the door. "I'll go grab you a hot wash cloth, okay?" you offered, and Ariel mumbled a light "Thanks," her eyes refusing to meet your own as she continued to count her money. _Can't have any fun around here without upsetting one person or another..._


	2. Chapter 2

You awaken to your small dump of an apartment, the room lit with overflowing sunlight that seeped from the large window in front of you. You rolled over, checking the clock on your bedside table and sighed heavily. It was past ten. You'd slept much longer than you intended, but you couldn't help it. Loretta had you stationed at Bastard until the wee hours of the morning when they closed, and you hadn't gotten much sleep the night before either. You rubbed your (e/c) eyes, sitting up in bed. Bad decision. You immediately regretted it. So maybe you had too many rum and cokes the night before, but there was nothing else to keep you entertained as you worked the night shift. You lay back down, surveying the room. The blood stained dress you wore the night before was laying on the tinged carpet beside your bed, surrounded by a series of throwing knives and shuriken, all which varied in size and shape. Clearly you were too drunk to properly put any of your weapons away last night. Not the smartest move. The air was thick and stale, even with the window open. It was summer in Ergastulum, and the weather was completely unforgiving.

You moved slowly to retrieve a pack of cigarettes from your night stand, sitting up with caution on the edge of the bed. In the distance you could hear the faintest sounds of singing, and you slipped a blue satin robe over your body, crossing the short space to the windowsill. You pushed the raggedy screen open, and sat on the edge of the window, lighting a cigarette. It was easy to spot the source of the music. The battered but beautiful woman with the dark brown hair and wide blue eyes was always easy to spot. You closed your eyes, listening to her soothing voice as it lulled you in the smoky space. The air was full of nicotine, car exhaust, and other scents that made up the slightly unpleasant stench of the city beneath you but you were none the more concerned. This was where you'd chosen to build a small life for yourself and you were content. The city was ugly and unforgiving, and yet still found a way to be authentic. And there always seemed to be plenty of work for you here.

Suddenly the music stopped, and you opened your eyes to see that the woman doting around in the tight white dress was nowhere to be found.

"Oi!" You heard loudly, and your eyes darted around to find the source of the sound. It wasn't long before your eyes connected with the man who shouted at you from the building parallel to your own. It was one of the Handymen. You didn't know which of them was which but you _did_ know that they lived in a building directly across from your own. You couldn't make out everything, but the man was tall, blonde, and shirtless. You said nothing. The man offered a small smile and waved at you. You smiled back, nodding in his direction as you sucked in a puff of your cigarette. He did the same. The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a bit, as you puffed at more of your cigarette, and the world felt at ease. You had a lot to do today but it was easy to push it all from your head as you sat perched on your windowsill. The blonde man was still staring at you, trying to make eye contact. Your eyes stayed down cast for the most part. What did he want? Didn't he have anything better to do? It was creepy how he said nothing, yet every time you lifted your head there he was, staring back at you with a dumb, sly grin on his face. This hadn't been the first time something like this happened. You were accustomed to being subjected to the lives of the Handymen, as their home was directly across from your own. You wouldn't call yourself a peeper, but it was inevitable to catch them moving around their space time and time again, and you assumed the same for yourself.

The broad man held up a coffee mug, taking a large sip and looking back at you. Really, what did he want? You offered a forced smile, shaking your head 'No' back at the man. This time your gaze met his own, and your (e/c) eyes connected with his blue one. He stared back unabashedly, and your heart began to race, if only for a moment. The feeling was awkward, uncomfortable even; it seemed to drag on forever.

Before long, a woman approached the blonde man from behind. His eye broke from yours, and he turned to smile at her. The woman seemed quite a bit older, with short black hair, slightly peppered with age. You shuddered. She planted her mouth on his own as her hands found the waistband of his jeans, sliding in with ease. You desperately wanted to pull your eyes away, to pretend like the whole incident you were witnessing never happened. But here you were, unable to move from your window as the woman's hands pumped under the strange man's waistband. Your face grew hot and there was no doubt in your mind that your cheeks were beet red with embarrassment.

As if to save you from the world's most embarrassing situation, the phone began to ring. The sound broke your daze, and you stood to go answer it. You closed the drapes shut just as you saw the woman's hand reappear from the blonde's waistband, a fat wad of what seemed to be cash, appearing with it. You shuddered in both disgust and intrigue.

"Yes?" You answered the phone without formalities. It's Officer Chad. He orders you to come down to the station, and you waste no time agreeing to his demands. Usually you like to give the old man a hard time, asking him to detail exactly what it is he's interrupting your day to handle. But anything to get you away from that awkward exchange by the windowsill would be more than enough. "Yeah, understood. I'll be there as soon as I can." You ended the call the same as you'd answered, without any formalities. It was time to get ready for work. 

The place was dead silent. And Worick enjoyed that. Nico had gone out early to run errands for Granny Joel, and Worick's client was still asleep in bed after the long night they'd shared. He stretched, yawning as he did so, sore limbs pulled taut. He slipped on a pair of jeans from the bedroom floor, being sure to do so quietly, as he didn't want to wake the older woman by his side. Mrs. Nora was a woman in a loveless marriage with a man who treated her more like property than anything. Thus, she could never call Worick over for a night at her own place. Still, she paid a hefty price when she could get away. And although Worick preferred to meet clients at their own homes, he couldn't say no to her. She was a nice enough woman, and filthy rich. She felt no remorse for cheating on her husband, and Worick felt no remorse for the fact that he'd helped her do it. Business was business, after all.

He exited his bedroom as quietly as he could, clicking the door shut behind him. Nic already had the pot of coffee brewing for him, the bastard knew him like clockwork. He smiled, reaching over to the pot and grabbing a mug from the cabinet above him. He poured a cup, neglecting the cream and sugar, and sat the mug on the small table beside the window before cracking it open. There you both were, as if he'd willed it all on his own. The two mysterious women he knew so little about, one more than the other. There was the silky dark haired one who always seemed to wander about without a place to call her own, he'd see her wandering the streets of Ergastulum at all hours of the day. He knew what she did, knew she'd gotten herself in some trouble all on her own. Still, he couldn't help feeling sorry for the poor thing. The woman with the voice of an Angel.

And then there was you. The one he really couldn't put his finger on. The young woman shrouded in mystery, with long (h/c) hair and (e/c) eyes. Tall, lean, and curvy, perched on your windowsill like a little bird. He sighed in content as he watched you, your eyes closed as you listened to the sounds of the woman below singing to no one. _Hot damn..._ he thought to himself. You had been there for several years, and Worick was sure one of these days the two of you would properly meet one another, and yet the day never came. All he knew about you was all that Loretta Cristiano was willing to share with the Benriya. And that was close to nothing.

"She works for me from time to time... and she's certainly not a threat... That's all you should worry you pretty blonde head about, Worick." Loretta said to him, the first and last time he asked about you. That was it, he hadn't even known your name and you had been neighbors for well over four years. He didn't know your profession, your relations, anything. And it was obvious you seemed to keep to yourself. The woman below was now gone, her singing gone with her.

"Oi!" He shouted across to you. He watched as your eyes fluttered open, pulled from the trance of the woman's song. Before long your (e/c) eyes were staring back at his blue one, and he couldn't help the smile that stretched across his face. He sent you a small wave. Over the years he'd seen very few people come in and out of your apartment, and even fewer men. He'd never caught you in the act, never caught you doing anything embarrassing as you waltzed around the space from time to time, passing the window without notice of who was watching on the other side. It had almost become a favorite past time of Worick's. Creepy nonetheless, and Nic never let him forget that. He watched as your long legs crossed over one another, revealing the curve of your backside under the short robe you always wore in the morning. Worick strained to get a better view, but knew it was futile. He watched your eyes, as they looked down onto the street below you, dancing across the ground, drinking in Ergastulum. Worick couldn't deny the profound intrigue he'd grown for his peculiar neighbor in time. Your gaze finally met his again, and his face grew hot. Of course you hadn't noticed the way he was looking at you, yet he felt like a small child who'd been caught doing something he shouldn't have as you stared back at him. Worick lifted his coffee cup, raising an eyebrow as if to say 'no joe today?' and you sent him back a small smile and shook your head 'no'. He couldn't quite see every feature that made up your face, and that frustrated him. He strained to make up the parts that he couldn't make out, but it was useless. You always seemed to be a world away from the blonde man somehow, without even trying. It wasn't that Worick was infatuated, necessarily. He was just so damn nosy. You were a puzzle and he was determined to put the pieces together.

Without notice, Mrs. Nora stood beside the man, and he was pulled from his puzzle and back into reality. "Hello gorgeous." He said, smiling at the woman. She said nothing, replying instead by grabbing the man's face with her hand and pulling it to her own. She planted a kiss against his lips and Worick kissed back, with feverish intensity. He knew his clients, knew many of them as well as Nico. He knew what they wanted, what each one responded the most favorably to. Mrs. Nora wanted the passion that was long gone from her home life. And so Worick did everything to replenish what she'd lost. She slid her powder soft hands into the waistband of his underwear, and Worick's eyes slipped shut, deepening the kiss.


End file.
